


a comedy of errors

by albion



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, also jean is an idiot (is anything new?)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-06 23:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/albion/pseuds/albion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Happy new year?” Jean hazards, and Eren starts laughing.<br/>“I can’t believe this. We spent new years stuck in a fucking snowstorm. This is fucking ridiculous.”</p><p>Eren and Jean try to have a good new year. The key word here is "try".</p>
            </blockquote>





	a comedy of errors

He wakes up to the sensation of something cool and wet against his lips, and as soon as Jean opens his eyes, it’s to the slightly alarming sight of Eren Jaeger holding a glass of something pale yellow to his lips, face just inches from his own and eyes wide.

Jean swears and instinctively pulls himself away from Eren’s face _(why is his face so close?)_ before launching himself forward in a vain attempt at self-defence, headbutting Eren with enough force to send his boyfriend sprawling out on the duvet in front of him.

“What the fuck!” Eren shouts, rubbing his forehead and looking down sadly at the rapidly spreading eggnog stain on the bed. “I was just waking you up, you idiot!”

Now more awake and with his head slightly more rearranged, Jean realises the situation.

“Oops.”

“Yeah, fucking oops. Ugh, I can’t believe you. I come in here trying to be a good boyfriend and giving you a glass of seasonal eggnog and then you headbutt me. Incredible. Absolutely-”

“Oh shut up Eren,” Jean grumbles, as he pushes the covers off and goes to help Eren, who’s now untucking the bedsheets from the corners and pulling off the duvet cover. “Just let me help.”

They strip the bed quickly and Eren carries the pile of laundry over to the washing machine whilst Jean stumbles into the bathroom, switching on the light. His face is quite a spectacular mess, the beginnings of dark stubble appearing on his cheeks and upper lip and a new reddish bruise appearing on his forehead. He wonders if Eren is now sporting one too. Probably not, because somehow Eren Jaeger seems to have a skull crafted of pure hammered steel which always left Jean looking the worse for wear, back when punching each other in the face was the most physical contact they’d ever initiate with each other.

Now look at them.

Jean laughs softly to himself, and goes to wash his face.

 

 

.

 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Eren says, as they do the washing up from breakfast, “because if not we’d have some real problems right now.”

“Eren, if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be living with you would I?”

“Well I don’t know,” Eren says breezily, squirting more soap onto the dishcloth, “you could just be living with me because I’m a fantastic lay.”

Jean whips the tea towel at Eren’s head and Eren goes down laughing.

The phone rings, and Eren looks up from the floor at Jean, who’s staring at the phone.

“I’ll get it,” Jean says quickly, dropping the tea towel back onto Eren’s face. Eren pushes himself up from the tiled kitchen floor just in time to see Jean pick up the phone and say, “hello, Jean Kirschtein speaking.”

There’s a pause wherein Eren can hear the unintelligible muffled sounds of the other caller.

“Oh,” Jean exclaims. “Ms. Jaeger! I mean, yes, Carla, hello! It’s nice to hear from you.”

Eren’s eyes widen and he makes his way over to the counter.

“Yep, we’re doing just fine! Do we have any plans for— what…? Oh wait, shit of _course—_ oh, sorry Ms. Jaeger, I mean Carla, I didn’t mean to swear…”

Eren grabs the phone from Jean’s hand. “Hi mom. Yeah, sorry about him. He’s as dumb as always. Nope, we don’t really have any plans for New Years. Jean just forgot it was the 30th today, because he’s an idiot.”

He looks up to see Jean pulling scowling faces at him, and sticks his tongue out in return.

“Oh, you want us to come over? Yeah we can do that, our plans basically involved us sitting on the couch watching tv anyway.”

Jean’s making flapping hand motions and frantic eye movements, but Eren turns smoothly to stare at the wall instead. It’s not that Jean doesn’t like Eren’s family, not that at all, but there was the time last Christmas when he managed to upset the entire gravy boat onto Grisha’s lap, and the fact that Mikasa still takes sadistic pleasure in telling everyone about the time Jean tried to ask her out in middle school.

Eren gives Jean the best shit eating grin he can muster whilst sweet talking his mother on the phone, and Jean groans.

Another family outing to the Jaegers.

 

 

.

 

That evening, Jean manhandles Eren next to the miniature Christmas tree they have next to their old television. There’s not a lot of room in their little apartment, but there’s just enough for Jean to push Eren into the tiny gap between tree and boxset and force him to listen.

“Jean what the hell-”

“Don’t make me go to your parent’s for New Years. Please.” He sounds like a child, sounds like that ridiculous, embarrassing fifteen year old he used to be, but Jean knows fully well something is going to go wrong if they go. He can feel it. He can _sense_ it, and he’s always had great sensing skills. Or so Marco used to tell him.

Eren is pulling the most ‘I can’t believe this shit I’m hearing’ face he’s capable of, and he pushes Jean away and stands up.

“Stop being an idiot, Jean. We can’t just refuse my mom like that. Knowing her, she’ll break out literally all the food in the entire house. She’ll ransack the Walmart.”

“I don’t need her to ransack the Walmart!” Jean cries stupidly. Eren frowns at him. “I just… always make a complete fucking fool of myself in front of your family, alright? I’m tired of it. They probably think I’m a complete nutter. Your dad’s probably given you a 'please-don’t-marry-that-Kirschtein-boy' talk by now.”

Eren bites his lip guiltily, because his dad _has_ in fact given him that talk, but that was way back at the beginning when they’d first started dating and everyone was convinced that due to their past it would just turn into a complete bloodbath.

Funny how that turned out, actually.

He tries to open his mouth and say something comforting like ‘Don’t worry Jean, my parents love you!’ but instead he opens his mouth and says, “But I have no plans to marry you.”

Jean looks completely stricken, and Eren quickly adds,“right now. I mean, we’re like twenty three, and I’m not ready for that level of-”

“Yeah whatever,” Jean mutters, and stalks off to the bathroom.

 

 

.

 

Eren gets a text later, sitting in bed, despite the fact that he can hear Jean pattering about in the kitchen.

_what are we even going to give your parents? we can’t show up with no food._

_i have no idea. whats in the fridge?_

_christmas stollen that none of us are going to eat. actually, that’s perfect. it’s still unopened and everything._

“We are not giving my parents our leftover Christmas stollen!” Eren yells from the bed, and he hears Jean’s bark of laughter through the wall.

“Well we’re not going to eat it, are we? Why did you even buy it anyway?”

“I don’t know! It was festive and looking at me from the aisle!”

The bedroom door opens and Jean appears through it, holding two mugs of steaming hot chocolate. “Yeah well. Another one of your _brilliant_ ideas, Eren. Now it’s taking up space.”

“We’re still not giving it to my parents. End of conversation.”

“Then it’ll have to be that lovely pack of chocolate I bought for us to eat on new years,” Jean says conversationally, and Eren sits back up again.

“What?”

 

 

.

 

By the time the 31st rolls around, Jean is staring glumly out the window at the rapidly falling snow. He doesn’t particularly like snow. Yeah sure it looks nice behind a pane of glass, but attempting to trudge through it on his way to work down at the convenience store each morning is a pain in the ass.

He supposes Eren is no better. Eren’s the one who can drive, so he’s the one who has to make sure the car hasn’t frozen solid during the night.

At this very moment, Eren’s wrapped up like a marshmallow, angrily scraping ice off the windshield. He looks up and gives Jean a very pointed look, and Jean glares back at him, before sighing and reaching to grab his coat.

Sitting on the back seat of the car is a tin of shortbread. The stollen is still sitting happily in the fridge.

“Can’t believe this,” Jean mumbles from the front passenger seat, as Eren finishes with the windows and launches himself into the freezing car, turning on the engine and switching on the heat. A blast of cold air hits Jean right in the face, and he coughs and splutters a bit before Eren turns it down.

“Great,” Jean mumbles. “Two hours in the car with you in the freezing cold.”

“Oh shut the hell up and go to sleep then,” Eren replies, and switches the gear into reverse.

Jean huffs, digging his hands further into his coat pockets, closes his eyes and leans against the cold window.

When he wakes up, they’re on the highway and Eren is leaning very close to the steering wheel, gripping it tightly. There’s a positive blizzard going on, and they keep passing hazard lights of other, less fortunate people.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jean asks doubtfully. “I mean, I know your family wants to see us, but is it worth dying for?”

“We’ll be fine,” Eren says, in that dismissive way he always does which infuriates Jean to no end, “I’m a good driver. This is only a little bit of snow.”

The snow is pelting the windshield so hard that Jean can barely see anything but white, but he purses his lips and doesn’t say anything, because the last thing they need right now is to get into an argument in the middle of the fucking highway, and he can tell Eren’s tense enough that anything he says will set him off like a spark on a patch of dry grass.

Eren’s a great guy, a really great guy that Jean loves to death (even if he hates to admit it), but Eren’s also stubborn as a goddamn mule and their arguments are positively legendary.

Without anything better to do, Jean closes his eyes and drifts back off to sleep.

 

 

.

 

It’s Eren’s hand on his shoulder shaking him insistently that rouses him, and Jean opens his eyes to… nothingness.

He almost panics, thinking somehow he’s gone blind in his sleep, but then he realises he’s staring out the window.

At white.

Nothing but white.

He turns around to look at Eren, whose face is pale but his cheeks are red and his lips slightly puffy, as if he’s just been outside.

“I’ve just been outside,” Eren begins, looking sheepish. “And uh, I mean… it didn’t quite work with just me so maybe you could help-”

“What?” snaps Jean, a product of his sleep grogginess.

“The car’s stuck,” says Eren bluntly, and isn’t that just wonderful?

Jean sighs audibly, and throws open his side of the door. He’s greeted face first by a massive pile of snow that positively welcomes him into its cold embrace with open arms, and Jean takes a good few moments pulling himself up from the snow pile, brushing the freezing ice crystals from his heavy jeans.

Now he’s freezing _and_ pissed off.

Pushing on the car doesn’t budge it one bit, and Jean wants to cry. He really does, because they’re not even on the highway anymore, they’re on one of the narrower roads leading to the Jaeger family house and clinic that’s set a little ways apart from the nearest town and there are thick, dark lines of trees either side of where they sit, completely stuck, in the middle of a snow drift.

It’s the opening to every horror movie ever, and Jean’s the full white guy here, so he’s going to die the most horrible death.

He doesn’t want to die in the snow, killed by some frozen axe murderer.

“You alright?” comes Eren’s voice, and Jean snaps out of his panic induced thoughts to realise Eren’s holding out a cup of coffee. Then he remembers at least they’ve got a thermos full of the stuff, and he thinks he could cry. Really cry. Or kiss his boyfriend, because it was Eren’s idea in the first place.

“I called my mom, and dad’s going to either try to come out to get us himself, or someone will come for us. Until then, I guess we’ll just have to get back in the car and keep warm.”

Some stupid part of Jean’s brain wants to remark, “Is this the part where we have to give each other handjobs to keep our temperature up?” But he mercifully refrains, because when he looks harder, Eren looks pissed off. He’s holding his coffee in one of those tight grips that Jean’s neck has been subject to in the past, and Jean can guess that he’s angry he wasn’t better prepared.

They’re only twenty three though, and this has to happen to everyone at some point.

Jean walks over and throws his arms around Eren’s shoulders. It’s an awkward gesture, because they’re both so bulky in their winter coats and Eren’s holding a cupful of hot liquid, but he hears Eren sigh lightly and lean into his embrace.

Sitting in the car, Jean attempts to lighten the mood. He tries to initiate a game of I spy, but when Eren says “s” and Jean says “snow!” and Eren replies, “Of fucking course it’s snow, what else is there!” He thinks he should probably quit while he’s ahead.

“Unbelievable,” Eren says, as he tilts his head back and puts his fingers to his temples. “Absolutely incredible. I can’t believe this.”

Jean checks his watch. It’s already 9pm somehow. He sighs, and reaches out his hand. Eren takes it gratefully, and slides over to his seat.

“Might as well try to keep warm,” Jean mutters, and holds his boyfriend as they both go to sleep.

 

 

.

 

Jean wakes up again, the fourth time in 24 hours, but this time he’s shivering. He reaches awkwardly past Eren’s sleeping body, resting heavily on his stomach, and turns on the ignition. As the car warms up, Eren’s eyes blink open wearily.

“Has someone come yet?”

“I wish,” Jean replies, and Eren looks so saddened by the prospect that without even thinking about it, he leans down and brushes his lips against Eren’s.

They’re both cold to the touch, but Eren opens his mouth wider and Jean slides his tongue past the row of Eren’s teeth and Eren sighs, tilting his head back into Jean’s chest.

They kiss for a long time, before finally Jean pulls back and stares glumly out the window.

A sudden distant blast of sound has them both scrambling to sit up properly, and they peer out of one of the windows at the nearest town to Eren’s family home. It’s about 2km away, but the sight of brightly coloured fireworks is unmistakable.

Eren frowns, and grabs at his phone.

“Oh my god,” he says. “It’s midnight. Actual honest to god midnight. We’ve been in this car for fucking ever.”

“Happy new year?” Jean hazards, and Eren starts laughing.

“I can’t believe this. We spent new years stuck in a fucking snowstorm. This is fucking ridiculous.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Jean replies, and doesn’t mention that he’s grateful for the fact they’re not both dead and chopped up yet. “It’s almost… funny, in a really annoyingly stupid way. Isn’t this the kind of story that’s worth telling to friends and relatives like… thirty years down the road?”

“If we’re still together by then, that is.”

“Oh come on,” Jean huffs. “That’s just mean.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” Eren replies. “We’re stuck with each other anyway. Because I’m not letting go of you, and I know there’s no way you’re leaving me.”

“What makes you so sure?” Jean says, grinning.

“You love my ass too much.”

Jean launches himself forward at Eren’s laughing face, and as they scuffle around on the front seat, they hear the merciful sound of a truck approaching.

They pull away from each other just as the two rescue workers tap on the window, and then when Eren opens the door, he sees Grisha Jaeger standing there.

“Hi boys. Sorry about the wait. Hope you’re both alright.”

“Hi dad,” Eren replies, and Jean feels like he could positively start dancing, right then and there.

He’s not going to die in the middle of a frozen wood in the dead of winter.

He’s going to spend the rest of his new years curled up in bed in his boyfriend’s family home, and no one, not even an axe murderer, is going to stop him.

**Author's Note:**

> Our family Christmas stollen is still sitting happily in our fridge, unopened. I have also heard horror stories of family fruit cakes that have been passed around for generations. Incredible.


End file.
